King
by audraeity
Summary: It's been three years since Lord Voldemort has won, the streets of Dark London are now crowded with deatheaters. Draco Malfoy is the Dark Lord's best student; powerful and merciless with no weaknesses. Except for one: Hermione Granger.
1. A Quest

**A/N: I've never written a Harry Potter fanfiction and lately I've been really into Dramoine. I haven't written in a while and hopefully this comes out alright.**

 **I also don't know when I'm going to update this, but there should be a Hermione chapter coming** **up soon.**

 **I know this is also quite short, but I promise longer chapters in the future!**

 **It's been three years since Lord Voldemort has won, the streets of Dark London are now crowded with deatheaters. Draco Malfoy is the Dark Lord's best student; powerful and merciless with no weaknesses. Except for one: Hermione Granger.**

Black robes hurriedly swished through the dark streets of London and the crowd subconsciously parted for him. Whispers rose through the hushed onlookers as they recognized the familiar subtle gleam of green lining on the cloak. The figure weaved through the cobweb maze of streets, the steps silent but steady, blending in with the oncoming night. He stopped in front of a victorian-styled church, the large wooden doors opening with a hollow creak at a wave of his hand.

As usual, he arrived minutes before the Dark Lord.

"Draco Malfoy." The Dark Lord apparated in front of him. He didn't need to bow in his presence anymore, Voldemort had declared them equals.

"Lord Voldemort," Draco's voice was calm, "I was under the impression that our lessons have stopped."

The Dark Lord paced around the empty room. The pews have long been discarded and the stained glass windows have faded with time.

"It has come to my attention that the Order has been growing," He said, "There has been an increase in resistance violence in random areas of the city." Draco eyes followed the Dark Lord's every step.

"You of all people know that we cannot allow them anymore freedom," Draco's hand tightened around his wand once Lord Voldemort stepped out of his field of vision. His power was rival to the Lord's, but he wasn't in any eager position to test out the theory.

His mind flashed to Hermione. Draco knew that she was alive, he made sure of it. His reliable information stated that she was at the revolt near the Lestrange house. The situation was quickly subdued before he arrived, but the Golden Trio had fled as quickly as they had appeared.

"My Lord," Draco fingered the tip of his wand, relaxing when he could see Voldemort's face again, "When has the Order ever succeeded within the past three years? I was personally there when we drove them underground - for good."

"One can't be too sure of themselves, Draco." The Dark Lord's eyes settled on him, "You are my best pupil. You should know that."

 _Crucio._

Mind-numbing pain filled his body, but he was well used to it by now. Draco barely flinched, standing still in the middle of the church, trying to resist his urge to send a defensive spell.

A cruel, satisfied smile settled into the Dark Lord's features, "My best pupil, indeed."

"I want Harry Potter, and his little Golden Trio," Lord Voldemort finally said, "I'd like for the Order to fall apart before I run out of time. I trust you to finish my request, think of it as a little gift from me." _A little gift?_

"You'll understand it when the time comes," He said, "You are excused."

No one lived in the Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were long gone and Draco was pushed with the duty as head of the house. Not that there was much responsibility either. For all he knew, he might be the last of the Malfoy lineage.

 _A little gift?_ The last time he remembered that was during one of Voldemort's training sessions.

" _Draco, one day you will be grateful for all that I have given you," The Dark Lord said, looking disappointingly at his student's shaking wand hand._

" _Mercilessness is a valuable trait. I suggest that you hold onto it quite dearly, you'd need it in the future. I'd like you to get as much information from these people as possible." Voldemort paused by the door, "One day you'll look back and think of how easy this task was. You'll think of this as a gift."_

 _The Dark Lord's eyes paused onto the chained victims' bodies before walking out._

Draco had killed many that day. Mckinnons, Westenbergs, Parkinsons. By the end, twenty bloody figures were heaped on the dungeon floor and the screams were nothing but white noise to him.

Voldemort's training were successful. During fights, nothing affected him, the only keeping him back was his own endurance. Which, under the specific training lessons could last him several days in battle.

His mind drifted to Hermione. The last time he had seen her was a few months ago, across the battlefield, wand in hand, bloodied and bruised. She had escaped to a safe-zone and apparated out. Behind his mask, she couldn't recognize him but the look in her eyes made him want to drop his deatheater status.

An owl landed by his windowsill and dropped a letter.

 _Draco -_

 _Word has it that the Order is planning an attack near Hogwarts tomorrow. I have also heard of the Dark Lord's request of you. I will be there tonight._

 _T. Notts._

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	2. An Encounter

**A/N: It's been 4 years since I've ever posted a chapter twice! Please tell me any mistakes or suggestions I can fix. :)**

 **I tried to make them as close to actual character as possible, if they're off, please point out anywhere that I can improve! Please review and favorite 3**

The only things that Hermione possessed could be fit into a small trunk. The Order (or what was left of it) was jammed into a small safe house a few miles north of Hogwarts.

The past few years have been harsh and after Harry's loss to Voledmort. The Order quickly reformed and escaped to multiple safe houses scattered around London. There was a period of time when most of them were alive and able to live under one roof to delegate tasks and plan together. After the successful assassination of Roldolphus Lestrange, the deatheaters mercilessly hunted after members of the Order, most likely Bellatrix Lestrange's revenge. They now had to work with what was left, and the future seemed bleak.

Harry had obtained vague details on the level of protection surrounding the Hogwarts castle. Not enough to guarantee a safe journey, but enough to get what was needed out of the wizarding school.

"We need the book of potions," Harry said, "and take whatever supplies you can get out of there."

He looked at Hermione, "You know where the library is right?"

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Alright, Hermione, you're going to go in. They've jinxed the place so no one can apparate in or out, so the closest we can get you is near the edge of the Forbidden Forest." He pointed at a crudely drawn map of the castle grounds.

"This," He pointed at a star, "Is where Ron and I will wait for you."

"If I'm gone for more than half an hour, leave," Hermione said. At the sight of the boys' protests, she added, "I'm serious. It's extremely dangerous here and we can't lose anyone else."

"We'll use our usual signals," Hermione continued, "Run when I tell you to."

Without Harry's invisibility cloak, Hermione stealthily made her way towards Hogwart's grounds. At 6:38pm, there should be an opportunity, where one of the doors would supposedly not be in the line of sight of any of the patrols.

The deatheaters patrolled in groups of three, walking in a pre-set path around the ground, covered in heavy dark robes. The Dark Mark was no longer in the sky, but the grim-reaper like figures that constantly covered the grounds did not make Hogwarts look any more inviting.

Hermione pulled out her watch, inspecting the grounds for the perfect time. She was hidden in the grass, albeit not the safest option, but the door was directly in her view. The second hand hit twelve and she swiftly made her way towards the door, pulling the hood of her cloak low over her hair.

"Alohomora," She quietly whispered, and locked the door behind her. The toughest part was over. Hogwarts was relatively easier to navigate, the walls and shadows brought better hiding places and her mental map of the campus provided useful information.

Hermione slowly made her way towards the library, ducking in shadows whenever she heard a hint of a voice or footsteps.

"Someone's on the grounds," Hermione strained to hear the voice, hiding into a closet, making sure that the door was open just a little bit so she could see out.

"How do you know?" _Was that Notts?_

"Someone broke my _Colloportus_ spell," The other replied. Their voices were getting closer, but she could only hear one pair of footsteps.

"Who do you think it is this time?" Notts chuckled, "The Boy Whos Hiding, carrot-top, or mudblood Granger?"

"Or all three," The other voice replied, "I'm hoping for Potter so we can get this fucking done with."

"You need your beauty sleep?"

"Fuck off."

"This door's open," She was sure that was Theodore Notts speaking, "I thought we shut all the closet doors?" Her heart hammered in her chest, and she pressed her back into the cold stone wall, hoping to blend into the cleaning supplies with her. Hermione knelt behind a bucket, trying to flatten her hair so she wouldn't be seen. Her knuckles turned white, waiting to jinx the two oncommers if they showed any sign of recognition. She cursed her stupidity, her curiosity led her to keep the door slightly ajar.

The door was flung open and a faint light streamed in. She could see the end of a black cloak, lined in a silky green - different from all the others. _Who is this?_ The mask was unrecognizable, and she could barely identify who it was. The man sweeped over the contents of the room, and there was a slight subtle pause as his face turned towards Hermione.

"Come on, there's nothing in here," Green-lined Robe said. The door was slammed shut behind him. "Are you fucking seeing things now?"

Hermione leaned against the wall, letting out a few quiet breaths. The deatheater, whoever he was, was definitely of high ranking, meaning that he was loyal to the Dark Lord and extremely skilled at handling magic. There was no way he hadn't seen her, especially with the amount of power to be able to get special robes. Hermione had never seen robes like that before, everyone from the Dark Side wore standard black, even the Dark Lord himself. Whoever he was, she owed her life to.

She took this opportunity and scrambled to her feet, re-opening the door and quietly making it over to the library. Hermione was familiar with the restricted section, her first time was during second year when she went through to receive a book on advanced potions. During her sixth and seventh year, she practically lived the section, for all the other readily available books didn't contain as advanced information. Her eyes slightly teared, remembering her first few years at Hogwarts. So much has changed since; the Dark Lord has taken over and now she has to live in hiding.

She quietly hopped the rope surrounding the restricted section and searched amongst the shelves, trying to find any useful potions books. The sun was going down and the lack of light within the library made it hard to read. Hermione cursed and fumbled with her watch, she had eight minutes. She hastily grabbed two potions books, praying that they were the the right ones and made her way out of the library. The ingredients would have to wait for a later time. She pushed her hood over her hair again, keeping close with the walls. She rounded the corner, bumping into a cloaked figure. Her heart stopped.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Both wands flew into the air and she cursed, she had always been weak at wandless magic.

" _Petrificus Totalus._ " She felt her ankles tighten together and her arms restricted. Before she could hit the floor, the man caught her and dragged them to the nearest room. The two wands flew to his hands and he locked the door.

The deatheater pushed her hood back and hesitated before shuffling through the two books she had in her hand. She couldn't even scream. He clearly knew who she was. Why wasn't he killing her? He scavenged through her pockets, taking out the watch and a small piece of gum before placing them back.

His mask was simple compared to what Hermione had seen. Most of them had intricate details but his had no designs, still equally terrifying. The green lining caught her eye again, the same deatheater who had saved her in the closet. Hermione's wand was handed back to her, but she made no move to attack him. The body-bind spell was released and she stood up.

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice shaking, trying to peer through the mask to get a glimpse of her helper. He made no move to attack her. Hermione snatched up the two books, ready to attack.

Then he was in her brain. Her occulumency skill was average at best and she fought her way to push him out with no avail. Her hands fell to her sides in shock, and the two books dropped in a heap next to her feet.

 _No, no, no!_ Her mind was screaming, but she couldn't detect him in his mind. _Powerful legimens. ...Was he smirking in her mind?_

Without her will, images of plans were pushed forward and memories of their safe house locations were revealed. _Stop. STOP._ Surprisingly, he obeyed and left her mind. She had to know who he was.

Quick as lightning, she threw a disappearing charm at his mask and he deflected it.

"It's only fair if I knew who you were," She said softly, not afraid of the deatheater in front of her. It was apparent to her that he wouldn't hurt her. She threw another disappearing charm, just for it to be shielded off. Hermione lunged, flicking off his mask to reveal blonde hair and silver eyes.

"Malfoy?" Why did _he_ , of all people, help _her_? How did she not recognize his voice?

"Fuck. I stayed too long," He muttered to himself, "Meet you on the other side, Granger."

She didn't have enough time to deflect the stunning spell.


	3. Ammunition

**A/N: I used to be able to write 2k chapters with ease, and now i'm struggling to hit 1k. I guess over a year of no practice has gotten to me. How do you like this chapter?**

 **(And does anyone know how to do line breaks? Fanfiction has seemed to remove it out of a formatting option?)**

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It had to be bloody Hermione Granger. Every single time they have some bloody dumb quest they have to send bloody Granger. Does Weasel and Potter not have enough balls to go themselves?_

He'd seen her in the broom closet, thank god Notts could not look over his shoulder. Her hair was too obvious, poking through the back of the bucket. He saved her arse once, and she had to go again and bump into him in the hallway. Does she not understand the art of stealth?

Nevertheless he had to find out what the Order was up to. Hermione's loot was unintresting, only two potions books. They were unrestricted books; he could tell by how the cover was aged by time, not by the use of countless hands.

Then, Draco legimency, her occulumency skills weren't strong and he was able to bypass her metal shields with only slight difficulty. But he was too gentle and hesitant to leave her alone. All the magical spells and jinxes he could push aside with a wave of his hand. Now when Hermione lunged to physically take his mask off? He didn't see that one coming.

It was also just bloody great that he didn't have an excuse as to why he was helping her. _Oh yeah, sorry for calling you mudblood Granger all those years I actually secretly liked you_. Like that's going to get him any bloody closer. Draco Malfoy, exceptional wizard of a wealthy pureblood heritage and he couldn't fucking woo a muggle girl?

She was now sleeping on his bed. Draco didn't know why he put her there, he just apparated straight to his Manor bedroom and set her down. Her hair was still the same, if not in worse damage due to neglect. She slept peacefully, curling up inbetween his sheets and swallowed up by the sheer size of his bed. Draco wanted to lay down next to her, but settled for a chair.

He stiffened when he heard her groan and turn over. There was a slight pause before she shot straight up and cupped her head in pain.

"Malfoy," She hissed, immediately reaching for her wand, which Draco had taken away when she fell unconscious. Still, that didn't prevent her from throwing a weak wandless stupefy charm. Draco flicked it away.

"Granger," He returned, trying to look at anywhere but her warm caramel eyes.

"Might as well get Voldemort out here now, get it over with," Hermione sniffed, "Go, call your master over here to kill me."

The beast in him was taken aback. How dare she call him a puppet? His power was on par with Voldemort himself, he could answer to whomever he pleased!

Instead, Draco chuckled, "I'm not here to kill you Granger."

Her shoulders hunched a little before straightening again to her proud posture, "Do what you must. I will not give any information no matter how many _Cruicio_ spells you cast."

He smirked, "Don't need to." He cast another legimens spell into her mind and easily pried open her mental walls.

 _What is he- Malfoy get out!_

He stayed hidden in the back of her mind.

 _Pureblood Malfoy, thinks he's so much better than anyone else. Malfoy I swear to all that is-_

Draco blocked her thoughts. He started flipping through her memories casually against her will.

 _Malfoy, I can tell you that this is a breach of privacy stop-_

He stopped at a memory of the safe-house the Order stayed near Hogwarts.

 _So this is where the Order is staying? I have to admit, this is quite blatantly screaming 'safe-house'. Have you even thought this out thoroughly?_ He mused.

He could feel the push of Hermione's mind trying to reject his presense. Deciding to humor her for a bit, he returned back. Draco could see her shoulders visibly relax. Her frizzy hair was now a little above her waist, her nose still pointed high and her eyes were still glaring menacingly in his direction.

"Out of practice Granger? Your occolumency skills has always been... lacking, but this is particularly weak," He smirked as Hermione's face turned pink with an angry blush, "I expected more from you." _It's much too easy to get a reaction from her._

"What are you going to do with me?" She asked, a hint of worry flickered in her eyes.

"I'm not going to give you to Voldemort, if that's what you're wondering," He replied, "You're far too useful to me as of now." Draco could see her wand hand twitching.

"Where's my wand?" Hermione asked next.

"I have it," Draco let her see a smidge of it from the top of his pocket, "You think I'd let you keep it?"

"I'd like to have it back." She held out her hand as if Draco was just going to give it to her.

"And let you jinx me?" Draco scoffed, "I think not."

"Goddammit Draco, if you're not going to torture information from me or kill me, why am I here?" She glared.

"What, worried about Potter and Weasel?" There was a slight pause, he had been debating about this for quite some time. "I'd like to help you."

"You have _got_ to be joking," Hermione replied, "You?"

"The Order is not the only people wanting to de-throne Voldemort of his power," He said, "Being a deatheater is not an easy job." His mind flickered to the painful one-on-one sessions with the Dark Lord. Although they greatly helped his skills in combat, he was being perfected into a war machine. Sure working for the Dark Lord had it's benefits, but Draco was used as a weapon at every chance Voldemort got.

She pursed her lips, "I cannot trust you Malfoy. From your family history, I don't see why you'd want to support the Order."

"Don't judge me for what my family has done," He growled, "I am nothing like them." His father was weak.

"Then why aren't you working with us from the beginning?" She asked. "You're quite late to join the game, Malfoy."

He had nothing to say to that. He was still young, joining the Dark Lord because all the high Slytherin wizarding families did so too. He couldn't have known how much power Voldemort would have accumulated in such a short time.

"At least I'm fighting for the _right_ side," Hermione suddenly lashed out, bitterness laced in her voice, "All deatheaters are bloodthirsty, power-hungry scum!"

Her voice raised a pitch, "When will you realize that you'll get absolutely nothing from following mindlessly to a psychopathic maniac!"

"Dumbledore would never have wanted this to happen," She hissed, "You're weak. Just following blindly after power, after the winning side."

Rage brewed in the back of his mind. Hermione has absolutely no bloody idea who he is, what he's trying to do. Just because he had not reached out to contact the Order does not mean that he is fighting one hundred percent for Voldemort. Draco is not the only one who doesn't want to live under the suffocating hand of the Dark Lord. She had no fucking clue.

"You think I'm weak?" A hollow laugh escaped his throat, "I'd like to see you try to go against me."

"Throw a curse at me," He spread his arms out, "Throw anything, go for a _cruicio_." Draco's eyes mocked Hermione, dared her, "Too scared Granger? Can't do wandless magic?"

He wanted to hurt her. Lord Voldemort had killed what was left of his family. What loyalty left for the Dark Lord was gone the minute Narcissa Malfoy's head hit the ground.

Draco tossed her wand onto his nightstand. Hermione slowly shook her head, fear shining through in her normally confident eyes.

He felt powerful, as if nothing could hold him back, not even feelings, not even petty unforgivable curses. Adrenaline and power pumped through his viens and his eyes hardened into silver ingots.

He leaned forward, inches away from Hermione's face. Close enough to see the small inperfections in her skin, to see the tiny flecks of furious light in her eyes. Her lips looked soft. He could just lean forward just a bit to kiss her.

"Next time _mudblood_ ," Draco hissed, "Find out who's clearly on your side before accusing them of shit."

He snatched her wand, cloak flowing in a wide sweep behind him before slamming his bedroom door.

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	4. Blink

**A/N: I don't get how authors can write 15k word chapters. It's quite the struggle for me to get to 1k. I'm so sorry if this is short for the wait!**

Hermione landed back on the bed with a soft thump. She could still feel the fear, hot on her skin from Draco's sharp remarks. In the three short years since Hogwarts, Draco had become more powerful that she could've imagined. She was always neck to neck with him, fighting to be top of the class, but now, it's evident Draco had gone through training that she hadn't.

He looked confident, sure of himself that he could defeat anything that was thrown his way.

Her wand hand tapped anxiously against her thigh, uncomfortable without her wand within reach. Three years had trained Hermione to be always on high-alert and ready to attack without a seconds notice. Being unarmed made her feel vulnerable, a dangerous position to be in the constant war zone. Voldemort might have won, but the fight wasn't over yet.

She felt slightly guilty for yelling at Draco without a reason. Well she had a reason, but Draco didn't know that. Should she apologize? _He_ was the one who kidnapped her anyways.

She pulled the Slytherin green comforter over her shoulders, curling up to her side, enjoying having a comfortable bed all to herself. She felt selfish, taking advantage of her situation while the rest of the Order thought she might be dead. Nevertheless, she fell into a dreamless sleep, the first in months.

Two days passed and Hermione had not seen Draco at all. His house elf brought food up to her room periodically and whenever she made a move to get out of bed, the house elf would say, "Master Draco insists that Hermione rest in the bed". That didn't stop her from stretching her legs whenever the house elf wasn't there.

The room was set up to be Draco's personal room. The sheets were soft and luxurious, the room impeccably clean. _How Draco,_ she had thought, taking in the black furniture and Slytherin tapestry. There were no photos, no childhood memorabilia, the only things slightly personal she had found was in the dresser; which was filled with row after row of expensive robes, shirts and a few casual pieces of attire.

After staying in bed in the same clothes for a few days, Hermione felt disgusting. Her barefeet padded through the dark oak floors to the attached bathroom. It was masculine, decorated with a black theme and fashioned with a shower and bath. Hermione fumbled through the cupboards, pulling out a few toiletries and took a shower. She helped herself to one of Malfoy's more casual shirts and pulled on a pair of shorts, cinching it extra tight at the waist.

She walked downstairs, tiptoeing on the cold marble. Like Draco's room, the rest of the house was cold and unemotional, void of any hint of the Malfoy family that lived here.

"What do you think you're doing Granger?" A smooth baritone voice much too close to her ear startled her.

"Stop with the stalking tactics," Hermione scowled, turning around "It's not a good look."

"I hardly want to impress someone like you," Draco said, walking past her to sit on a couch in the living room. His previous anger has seemed to diminish within the two days, and he talked to her as if nothing happened. She moved to sit in the adjacent couch, sinking into the pliable leather.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked, "I thought I asked Hevwid to provide everything for you."

"I was bored," Hermione replied lamely.

"Go entertain yourself," Draco said, flipping through a few newspapers on the glass coffee table. Her heart skipped a beat when she spotted an old picture of Harry moving through one of the commentary columns.

"It's kind of hard to," Hermione started dryly, "when you're being held hostage without your wand," Her eyes glanced over the titles. _Public Transport Temporarily Disbanded! Worries over muggle interference arises._

"Isn't that quite unfortunate," He drawled. Hermione stiffened in anger. A wand was a wizard's most prized possession, it was made for them and over the years, the wand and the wizard have formed an emotional bond. It was one of the only ways to access magic, to function in the wizarding world, to protect themselves in the wizarding world.

She breathed in and out, "Malfoy, I'd like my wand back."

Draco flipped through a few pages, "If you think you're getting your wand back-"

"What are you going to do to me?" Hermione repeated. She felt useless, as if she was waiting the war out, doing nothing. At least being tortured for information was something more than doing this.

"This is hardly a prison," Hermione continued, ignoring the annoyed glare coming from the blonde-haired man, "What kind of prison locks up their prisoners in a bedroom? And provides them with-"

Draco stood up, his icy anger radiating over her, _Oh you're in for it Hermione,_ "If you're protesting, I will gladly lock you up in the dungeons down below." Hermione subconsciously shrunk back into the chair.

His finger tilted up her chin to look at her squarely in the eye, "Are we clear?"

The lioness roared, "I'd like to see you try."

"You're not in the position to challenge me," Grey eyes narrowed.

Once Hermione started, she couldn't stop. Logically, she knew Malfoy was right but she refused to back down, "I am stronger than you can ever imagine, Malfoy."

There was a slight pause before Malfoy's hand tightened over her wrist and hauled her out of the couch. Hermione desperately dug her feet into the ground, but they just slid over the smooth wood finish. His strides were long, forcing Hermione to run to catch up.

A large concrete door slid open and Malfoy tossed her none too gently into the room, "Stronger that I've ever imagined? Have fun, Granger." The door shut behind him.

 _You brought this upon yourself,_ Hermione berated herself. It was just _so_ easy to rile up Malfoy. They fought at every turn, every bend, and most of the time she didn't mean what she said. Well, maybe she _did_ mean what she said, afterall, Malfoy was being uncommonly nice to her. She should've been thrown straight into the dungeon from day one.

Hermione had barely gone out of the room, and a little less than ten minutes later she was again, facing the brunt of Malfoy's anger.

She gingerly sat down on the cold concrete bench lined next to the wall and curled up into a ball, shivering in the magic-enhanced chill.

 **Remember to comment and review! (Is the action happening too fast? I feel like I'm rushing it.)**

 **xxAudrey**


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